I have a very vague set of memories but they all come up to form one hell of a morning, one that didn’t exactly go according to plan. It all started off a simple guys’ night out at a local pub, we weren’t regulars of the place but we lived by “a place to drink is a place to drink”. Our little group did the usual, sit at the bar whenever we found enough empty seats close to each other and drink a couple rounds of beer.
The one problem about the place was that the crowd was pretty much a major bore, to say the least. Some of the guys and even gals around the quiet corners of the place weren’t much of our usual crowd but drinking is better with lots of people and we don’t judge. Besides, a few girls bought my friends and I a round of Tequila that we gunned down to head to their table, all of them had good looks and seemed nice enough to chill with.
One night stands are one thing that I tend to avoid, but this time around it was extremely tempting, since the girls’ intentions seemed pretty clear from the get go. The booze kept flowing and the conversations started turning towards sexier topics, of which I remember little since I was plastered by the fifth round of Tequila. Beer and Tequila mix well when you are doing submarines, but not so much when you drink them in separate bouts.
Anyways, my friends each had an arm around a girl and their shirts were mostly undone. The girls began talking about more personal details and little secrets they had, this it were it all went wrong. One of them used the phrase “post op”, which set off every single alarm I had in my head, I blurted out “Oh my God, you used to be a man?!” And believe me when I say that no woman wants to stay after hearing that, no matter how well you played her before.
Her response came swiftly, a slap across the face for me and the rest of her group walking away without my friends. Turns out she was simply speaking of her breast reduction surgery, kind of funny when you think about it right? Some of the other patrons didn’t think feel that, so I was “escorted” out of the bar with a couple of my friends who decided to get a bit rowdy.
No one was looking for trouble, but there was a small party going in the pub and the guests didn’t take too kindly to our attitude. Besides, now that I think about it my friends may or may not have been talking loudly and laughing obnoxiously, so it all came down to how much crap the pub’s staff and customers could put up with. I suggested it we called it a night, but my friends¡ were pissed off and needed a few more drinks. The last thing I remember was that we called a cab and went to a different pub where we drank until sunset.
My car had been parked on the street close to the pub where we started, all my friends ditched me and headed home in a cab so I was left alone to care for my car in the early morning. I had sobered up enough that I thought it was a good idea to just sleep in the car for a bit, at least until I could drive it.
I’ll go ahead and admit I’m not the greatest intellect in the world, much less when blue-balled and drunk. But I couldn’t figure out why my key wouldn’t work in my car, I tried forcing the door handle and even kicking it a bit. There was a little detail, though. It was not my car and I was in the wrong street, which didn’t seem as funny for the cop that took me to the station as it did to me.